


What They Needed to Say

by muses_circle



Series: We All Fall series [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Between Episodes, Episode: s04e01 Lazarus Rising, Episode: s04e02 Are You There God? It's Me Dean Winchester, F/M, Gen, Reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:20:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23465317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muses_circle/pseuds/muses_circle
Summary: The peace never lasted: something big and terrifying would rear its ugly head, but for now, she took comfort in the contentment of the moment.
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Original Female Character(s)
Series: We All Fall series [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1059086
Kudos: 1





	What They Needed to Say

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t pretend to own the Winchesters or Bobby Singer. They belong to Kripke. However, the girl’s mine, and so are all her faults. Based on the song :Say" by John Mayer. Takes place between "Lazarus Rising" and "Are You There God, It's Me Dean Winchester?" from season four.

For mid-September, the afternoon was quite cool. The cool sea breeze floated through the windows, tackling the lingering warmth and pushing it back outside. A nice change from the blistering heat and humidity that marked the end of summer on the Mississippi Gulf Coast. Odds are it wouldn’t last, but it beat tolerating the usual cool, dry air conditioned environment.  
  
Emma looked up from the book lying on the table and rubbed her eyes. Taking a sabbatical had been the right thing to do. Between book promotions, attending a couple summer conventions, and a growing need for her research expertise in the hunter community, her plate was full. Who knew there was so much more to life than giving lectures and writing dissertations?  
  
Take the small, but diverse group of hunters in the Gulfport area. They were skilled and intelligent, encompassing a myriad of expertise from exorcism to martial arts. And despite their mutual goal, they chose a solitary existence, one she never would have noticed had it not been for her decision to learn about the men and women who lived to destroy evil to protect humanity.  
  
Take her most recent acquaintance, Derek Jones: she’d met this local hunter through working the Main Street poltergeist eight months ago. He’d been reading about a recent rash of cattle slayings a couple hours’ north, around Hattiesburg, and wanted her help with the leg work. Though the cops were baffled and the cows’ owners blamed the deaths on a virus, Emma’s research pointed to a Chupacabra. Digging into the myth behind these creatures had been the highlight over the last few days.  
  
It also kept her too busy to wonder where Sam Winchester was, or even if he still lived. Ever since that night they spent together in Wichita – when he decided leaving her behind was the best way to keep her safe – Sam had fallen off the grid. Sure, she’d spent quite a bit of time searching for him; Emma knew enough about his hunting habits to attempt an investigation. Unfortunately, three weeks’ worth of scouring newspaper reports for unexplained incidents, enlisting Bobby’s help, and calling in favors from a couple other contacts came up with nothing.  
  
Bobby was right: Sam didn’t want to be found.  
  
Shaking her head to clear her mind, Emma stood and collected her notes. “Put him out of mind, girl,” she whispered to herself. “He’ll call when he can.” She grabbed her briefcase and stuffed the handful of papers into it, along with her laptop. A soft sigh of resignation touched her lips.  
  
_Keep telling yourself that. Get over it. Move on. Y’all were two ships meeting in the night, and there isn’t anything else you can do for him._ Her inner voice taunted her, mocked her for holding onto the belief that Sam would return her love for him. The memory of their last kiss, of the emotion that flowed between them, would not leave her alone. Perhaps keeping himself at a distance was his method of conveying his feelings for her, that safety equaled love. In his line of work, you protected the people you loved at all cost. Hadn’t she seen several examples of that over the last several months?  
  
Perhaps that was the reason why hunters were loners: a demon or monster couldn’t commit mass atrocities if there was no one else around.  
  
With another shake of her head, Emma picked up her cell phone to call Derek. Time to meet up with him, hand over her research, and move on to her next order of business: tracking demonic activity in the hopes of locating Sam.  
  
Before she could look up Derek’s number, her phone chirped a familiar tune. The caller ID on the screen confirmed it was Bobby. She hit a button and put the phone to her ear. “Hey Bobby, I was going to call you in a little while. Must’ve read my mind.” With her bag slung over her shoulders, Emma used her free hand to search for her car keys. “Have you heard from Sam yet?”  
  
“You could say that,” Bobby said after a moment. “Dean’s alive.”  
  
Her hand stilled over her keys. “What?” she whispered and straightened herself. The bag slipped from her shoulders. Her legs trembled as she lowered herself into a nearby chair. “How . . . what?” She cleared her throat and tried to wrap her thoughts around Bobby’s announcement.  
  
There was no way, she argued. Dean’s body had been mutilated, according to Sam. Not to mention the fact that he’d been dead four months already. No one comes back from the dead, not unless . . .  
  
One hand gripped the edge of the table so hard, her knuckles turned white. “You couldn’t’ve asked me to sit down first?” Emma asked, faintly annoyed and uncertain whether she should be joyful or terrified. “It’s not possible, Bobby.”  
  
“You never were one for beating around the bush. Besides, why would I lie about something like this?”  
  
“Dean’s . . . alive? He’s not a shapeshifter or – ”  
  
“Nope. Tried all the usual tests, and he’s the real deal.”  
  
A lump formed in her throat, and the words she tried to speak felt like bile. “Bobby, did Sam try to . . . you know, make a deal?”  
  
“Doesn’t look that way.”  
  
The tears pricking her eyes fell freely down her cheeks. “Thank God,” she whispered and slouched back into the chair. “I haven’t heard from him in several weeks. Does Sam know Dean’s . . .?”  
  
“The first thing Dean did after seeing me as find Sam. They’re both at my place now.”  
  
Bobby’s tone of voice told her what she needed to know. Dean was alive. Sam was there with his brother. The Winchesters were together again. And she needed to get there as soon as possible.  
  
Emma shot out of her seat and grabbed her keys. “How long they planning on staying?” she asked.  
  
“For a little while,” Bobby replied. “We got some pretty heavy-duty research ahead of us.”  
  
Emma frowned. “What do you mean? Y’all looking for the demon that brought Dean back from the dead?” Even as she spoke the words, she wondered _why_ a demon would bother. If they had Dean Winchester in hell, hadn’t they won a major battle?  
  
“Something like that.” Bobby’s voice had turned wary, which told her something big was happening.  
  
She grabbed her research case and purse, and rushed out the door. “Which means as soon as I get there, you’ll tell me what’s going on?”  
  
“Might be a good idea.”  
  
“Great, then I’m heading out now. I’m hopping a plane to Sioux Falls and will be there as soon as I can.” Emma breezed down the front steps and ran to her car. She had to drop off that research for Derek before she could hit the airport. “Bobby, do me a favor? Don’t tell them I’m coming?”  
  
“That’ll be easy. They don’t know I’m calling.”  
  
“Good. I’ll see y’all in a little while.” Emma pulled the phone away from her, shut it, and put it back into her purse. Her heart pounded in her chest – the anticipation, the surprise and relief coursing through her veins, nearly making her giddy. She unlocked her car door and slid in, wondering how in the world she could survive a plane ride with all the exuberant joy flowing through her veins. Sam was okay, and the Winchesters were reunited once more. Going to them felt a little bit like a family reunion, something she never believed she’d experience.  
  


  
  
Nine hours later, Emma pulled into Bobby’s driveway. The nighttime sky spread over the world like a blanket, a reminder of her frustrating and tedious journey across country. Exhaustion muddled her mind with incoherent thought and her body ache for a good night’s sleep.  
  
After delivering her research, Emma sped towards New Orleans, the closer of the two large airports in the area. Getting a flight had been no problem, but her one-hour delay in Dallas had become three. The craft experienced mechanical problems, and the next flight to Sioux Falls hadn’t been until the next morning. Rather than take the offered free hotel room and upgraded ticket, Emma chose to wait. She wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway, not when her mind maintained a state of intense anxiety. So many things to say. Such uncertainty over how to say them.  
  
Even as she turned off the engine and got out of her rental car, Emma questioned her rash decision to come here. Aside from hugging both Winchesters and thanking God they were okay, what other purpose would she serve? Couldn’t this have been done over the phone? She argued with herself and gazed at the lighted first-floor windows.  
  
Sam and Dean were inside. She’d spotted the Impala mere feet from where she parked, and from the looks of things, they were burning the midnight oil. Emma tucked her hair behind her ear and took a breath. Her anxiety level rose so high, it could have touched the stars; her fatigue vanished at the thought of being in the same room with Sam again. Why was she so nervous? Wasn’t she supposed to be joyful that the Winchesters were alive, kicking, and together?  
  
The truth was, because Sam hadn’t contacted her since they had parted, she knew there were a lot of unspoken truths lingering between them, her novel’s dedication at the top of the list. Knowing what he had been through over the last few months, Emma wasn’t sure this was the best time to be speaking of feelings. Silently she prayed she’d walk in on the three men exorcising a demon and celebrating later with a fifth of Jack Daniels.  
  
She walked up the front porch steps, knocked on the door, and waited. She ran a hand through her hair, smoothed it in place. Rubbed the circles under her eyes to remove mascara smudges. Brushed the traveling dust off her slacks and silk blouse. Stuffed her hands in her pockets, took them out and held them behind her back.  
  
The door swung open, and Bobby stood on the other side. He flashed her a quick smile. “Emma?” he asked, his voice feigning surprise. “What are you doing here?”  
  
She glared at him. “Give me a break,” she hissed under her breath. “Don’t make me out to be some kind of freaky stalker!”  
  
“Just get in here,” he said and stood back. “They can’t hear us, anyway. Too busy having their first catfight.”  
  
Emma brushed past Bobby and turned around to look at him. Her brows furrowed. “Over what?” she asked.  
  
“Long story.” Bobby shook his head. “You showing up’ll be a good diversion. Just pretend you were supposed to fly here and meet up with me. I’ll take care of the rest.”  
  
_That won’t be hard to do_ , she thought and followed him into the library. Having never been at Bobby’s house before, Emma glanced at the large room off the hallway – the piles of dusty books, the fireplace in the back wall – but the moment she spied Sam and Dean, she froze.  
  
Emotion flowed her like lightning, striking chords at her heart and soul. The sheer joy at seeing Dean standing there, strong and alive, was overpowering: when he turned and saw her, a big grin spread across his face. Emma saw the light of amusement in the eldest Winchester’s eyes.  
  
“Look, your girlfriend’s here,” Dean said and hit Sam on the arm. Her face felt hot with embarrassment, but she threw Dean her trademark playful glare.  
  
“I see your sense of humor hasn’t gone away,” she said and walked further into the room. “Bobby told me that you were back, but I’m . . . I’m just . . .” Emma fought against the tide of emotion that made her voice warble and pricked her eyes with tears. “God, it’s so good to have you back.” She smiled and laughed.  
  
Dean walked over and enveloped her in a bear hug. “Long time, no see, stranger,” he whispered and then stepped back. “Didn’t know you’d be here.”  
  
Emma felt Sam’s eyes on her, but kept her gaze fixed on Dean. “Bobby and I are working on a case,” she said and glanced at the older hunter. “He’s taught me quite a lot about the nasties that go bump in the night. It’s turning into a full-time job.”  
  
Dean grinned. “So you’ve gone from hot professor to hot supernatural researcher?” He gave her the once-over. “I bet you got all the right moves and the brain power to keep a man busy.”  
  
Emma snorted and rolled her eyes. “You gotta find some better pickup lines, Dean,” she said and glanced at Sam out of the corner of her eye.  
  
The younger Winchester stood rooted to his spot, staring at her as though she was an apparition. Not an unexpected reaction, considering she had literally shown up on Bobby’s front doorstep. However, she noticed something different that hadn’t been there before: a hopelessness and darkness that exuded from him. It concerned her, just as it scared her. _What had he been up to?_  
  
“Hey Sam,” Emma said, a smile touching her lips.  
  
Surprise and confusion, mingled with an unknown emotion, flitted across Sam’s features just before he righted himself and nodded. “Hey Em,” he whispered. The sound of her nickname on his lips was heaven, and for a split second, she wished they were the only two people on planet Earth – just so they could spend forever speaking each other’s names.  
  
Just for a moment, the world seemed to fall away. She turned her head and stared at him, her eyes conveying the warmth of her friendship and love. Sam’s eyes seemed to be reflecting them back to her. Emma allowed herself to swim in the depths of his hazel eyes, bask in the love and attention he gave her, and feel for the first time that she had come home.  
  
Her heart pounded in her chest, anticipation circulating throughout her body. Maybe what she needed to say was the very thing Sam needed to hear . . .  
  
A loud coughing noise startled her from her reverie. She jumped a little and nearly swore out loud.  
  
“Get a room, you two,” Dean complained and looked between Emma and Sam. “Bobby’s got plenty of them.” Emma opened her mouth to speak, but Sam interrupted her.  
  
“Dean, not now,” Sam warned, never looking away from Emma. She fell back into the mesmerizing color of his eyes and wished to continue her reunion with Dean later. Much later, if she was lucky.  
  
“Dean, come on and help me get some stuff out of my truck,” Bobby said. She didn’t wonder if he and Dean left the room, but instead let the stillness of the room after their departure break the hold Sam’s gaze had on her.  
  
Though she looked away towards the roaring fire in the fireplace, she remained silent. _Where do I start? What should I say first?_ The questions shot like arrows through her brain.  
  
“How’d you hear about Dean?” Sam asked, breaking the cord of silent communication.  
  
She turned and saw he had taken a few steps closer to her. She returned the movement, closing the space between them. “Bobby called me. I was actually going to call him and see if he’d heard anything from you, but . . . Dean coming back from the dead . . .” Emma gestured and laughed softly. “That’s the best kind of surprise.”  
  
Sam’s lips quirked into a grin. “I sure as hell didn’t see it coming.”  
  
They both took another step towards one another: Sam was so close that she could reach out her hand and touch his chest. “Do you know what happened?” Emma looked up and watched a guarded look form on his face. “I mean, after you and I parted ways, I know you went looking for Lillith. Did you . . . ?”  
  
“No, I didn’t kill her, and I didn’t make a deal with her, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Taking a big step backwards, Sam ran a hand through his hair and sighed.  
  
Emma frowned. “No I wasn’t, but gotta say, I’m glad to hear it.” She walked over to a chair and sank into it. “Then it wasn’t a demon that resurrected your brother?”  
  
Sam shook his head and glanced at her, then looked into the fire. “It was an angel.”  
  
Something about the way he emphasized the word ‘angel’ put Emma on edge. Perhaps it was because neither of them had ever talked about their religious beliefs . . . or if, indeed, whether they had any. All Emma ever ran into with hunts were varying degrees of terrifying and scary. There really were angels?  
  
She ignored the obvious question, stood up, and walked over to him. “An angel saved Dean?” she asked and slipped her hand into his. The rough, calloused fingertips and palm felt reassuring and warm. “You’re serious?”  
  
Sam nodded. “We all thought it was a demon. Dean and Bobby tried trapping it, but Dean said it sauntered past the saltline, all the traps they’d drawn, the rocksalt rounds.”  
  
“Did it have fluffy angel wings?” Emma cracked a soft smile at her joke, but it fell on deaf ears. “How’d they know it was an angel?”  
  
“He called himself Castiel and told Dean what he was.”  
  
“And y’all accept that?”  
  
Sam shrugged but turned and looked at Emma. “Not really, but it’s the only viable theory at the moment.” He released her and laid his hands on her shoulders. “I’m glad to see you, Em, but you shouldn’t be here. Not right now.”  
  
A heaviness settled around her heart. “Why not?” she asked. “It’s a free country, _cher_. And why wouldn’t I want to come see y’all? Dean looks great, and I’ve missed you so much. More than you know.” She clasped his hands with hers and resisted the urge to pull back and run away.  
  
“Sorry,” Emma continued and glanced down at her feet. “I meant that . . . as a friend, I missed you.”  
  
Sam chuckled softly and touched her cheek with his fingertip. “Yeah, I missed you like crazy, too.” He cupped her chin and tilted her face up to his. Emma rose to meet his lips descending on hers. The firm pressure of his mouth, the slow rhythm of their kisses, the way he pulled her closer for better access to her, made her weak-kneed. Her arms wrapped around his neck, allowing her to melt against him as their mouths mated.  
  
Despite the dizzying sensations Sam’s kisses caused inside, Emma couldn’t shake the dark presence coming from the man in her arms. She wondered where it had come from, and how it had taken hold in such a short amount of time. Was Sam’s newfound ability to send demons back to hell responsible? Or was it another force at work in his life? The questions plagued her, threatened to shatter this perfect moment. Sam’s mouth trailed from hers and planted heated kisses down her cheek and along her jawbone. She leaned her head back, granting him full exposure to his wandering lips, and moaned.  
  
“Emma, I read the dedication,” Sam’s voice, urgent and tinged with a little desperation, whispered in her ear. “And you should know . . .” He nibbled on her earlobe while she panted for air. “. . . that I feel the same way about you.” He backed away and looked at her; Emma saw the earnest truth reflected in his eyes.  
  
Just at that moment, the world was brand new. Life as she knew it ceased to be, and the future spread out before her, an exciting frontier yet to be explored. The man she loved, loved her back. No matter what life tossed at them, Emma understood that they would tackle it together – even though they might be hundreds of miles from each other.  
  
Emma watched him with love in her eyes and joy in her heart. “Then I think this is cause for celebration,” she whispered and smiled.  
  
Sam nodded and leaned down to kiss her again, but the moment was interrupted by another loud, obnoxious sound. They pushed each other away like two thieves caught taking the same jewel, and turned to see Dean and Bobby in the room once more, their arms laden down with books.  
  
“Do I have to define what _get a room_ means?” Dean smirked and plunked the pile of books on the table.  
  
Emma felt the blush creeping into her cheeks and threw Dean a playful look. “You’re just jealous that your brother might be getting some tonight.” She would have continued, but she yawned.  
  
Bobby put his stack of books on the floor and looked at Emma. “I got the spare bedroom, if you want to crash here for the night. Beats forking out cash for a hotel room.”  
  
“Thanks, Bobby, but I think I’ll get a room at the hotel I passed a few miles back.” She snuck a secretive smile at Sam. “Flying all day is draining. And since I’m here, maybe y’all might need some help with this ‘angel saving Dean’ thing?”  
  
Dean eyebrows shot up. “Don’t tell me you told Emma about me being felt up by an angel?” He cast an annoyed look at his brother.  
  
“Dude, what was I supposed to do, tell her you won at Hell’s version of Hokey Pokey and the grand prize was a one-way ticket Stateside?”  
  
“No, but that sounds a hell of a lot better than an angel took me on the Angel Live Express.”  
  
“Can’t you two chuckleheads give it a rest, already?” Bobby groused and rolled his eyes.  
  
Emma listened to the Winchesters banter, and her soul expanded with serenity. The peace never lasted: something big and terrifying would rear its ugly head, but for now, she took comfort in the contentment of the moment. Before she turned to sneak out, she caught Sam look at her – the silent acknowledgement that he would soon follow her to finish what they’d started.  
  
Tired or not, Emma longed for the new anxiety spreading through her, mixing with her arousal. Waiting for him was going to be the hardest part.


End file.
